


Tutor me, please

by Wolven_Spirits



Series: The Thrall of Pleasure [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fic Exchange, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle Grow Up Together, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pure Smut, Smut exchange, Some Fluff, Teasing, Tom and Harry are the Same Age, but mostly sex, so please be gentle, this is my first smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 15:11:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19703941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolven_Spirits/pseuds/Wolven_Spirits
Summary: As Slytherin Prefect, Tom has to tutor Harry. Now if only Harry could focus...





	Tutor me, please

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aroundloafofbread](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroundloafofbread/gifts).



> This is my first time writing smut! I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Written as a smut fic exchange with [aroundloafofbread](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroundloafofbread/pseuds/aroundloafofbread)
> 
> Prompt: Prefect
> 
> Beta'd by: aroundloafofbread

“You misspelled ‘non-verbally’ twice, Harry,” Tom Riddle’s breath brushed Harry’s ear.

He froze as Riddle’s chin came to rest on his shoulder, eyes scanning the paragraph he had written. “Well it’s _your_ fault I can’t concentrate,” Harry snapped.

Riddle sighed in an insultingly put-upon way that made Harry bristle. As if Riddle was the one suffering through this tutoring session. Yeah _fucking_ right. Riddle was most certainly enjoying himself, tormenting Harry for Merlin-knows-how-long. 

“Really, darling, shifting blame is not going to improve your grade, you know.”

“I’m not your darling,” Harry scowled. He glared at the parchment where his quill had dripped ink, a large blotch quickly spreading. He huffed, his breath fluffing his bangs away from his eyes. “And I think I have every right to bla- _ah_!” Harry’s hips jerked as Tom shifted behind him - underneath him, his fingers trailing up his thigh to brush against the place where their bodies met. 

“Focus, Harry,” Riddle tutted. 

Harry didn’t need to turn to see his face to know that he was smirking.

The bastard. 

He glanced back at his parchment, hand trembling as he gripped his quill. 

_When casting non-verbally -_

Harry’s breath hitched as Tom moved yet again, a jolt of pleasure running through him. He felt hot, unable to focus on the words in front of him when Riddle was so very deep inside him, his cock pressing in as far as it could, brushing against _that spot_ every time he moved. Riddle’s touches, teasing and soft, made him shiver despite his heated skin. Arousal coursed through him with every brush of Riddle’s fingers on his inner thigh, torturously close to his weeping cock.

Sweet Merlin.

Harry licked his lips slowly, trying to force himself to concentrate. But he’d been trying to focus the whole time he’d been writing while Tom _fucking_ Riddle chuckled in his ear and rolled his hips and drove him to near insanity with the press of his cock inside him. Each motion drove it deeper and teased his prostate, sending jolts of pleasure right to the very tips of his fingers.

Harry knew then that he had reached his limit. He couldn’t. He just - he needed - 

“Fuck,” he muttered, unable to keep the word from slipping out. He regretted it immediately, for he’d sworn he wouldn’t give Riddle the satisfaction of seeing him come undone.

“So crass,” Riddle murmured. As if he wasn’t balls deep inside him. As if Harry wasn’t naked in his lap.

“Fuck you,” Harry replied unconvincingly.

“Darling, what do you think we’re doing right now?” Riddle laughed. The bastard.

Upon becoming prefect, Riddle had been given a private room to allow him a quiet place to study - away from the distraction of other students - but of course he knew exactly how to take advantage of his privileges.

When Harry had walked into the room for extra tutoring, Riddle had been ready, waiting in the only chair in the room, making it very clear how this was going to play out. And if that hadn’t been obvious enough, the bulge in Riddle’s trousers had certainly erased any doubts.

 _‘Strip_ ,’ Riddle had commanded, smirking as Harry’s eyes lingered in his erection, enjoying the way Harry’s tongue darted out to lick his lips.

And Harry had wanted to resist, if only to spite the smug bastard, but he needed the extra help, and if this was the price to pay, well...

“You’re _supposed_ to be tutoring me. You know, as Slytherin Prefect. Upstanding student. Teacher’s pet. Yadda yadda yadda.” Harry kept his voice as steady as he could, trying to goad Riddle into - into doing something. _Anything_. 

But Tom Riddle merely smiled, lips brushing against Harry’s neck, making him shiver. Then he repeated the motion, and Harry was torn between the delicious sensation of Riddle’s mouth and the way the prefect was now tracing Harry’s skin just shy of his swollen member. Just… just an inch to the left, and Riddle would be able to wrap his fingers around Harry’s cock, give it a firm stroke - 

Harry made a strangled noise, so very desperate and yet loathe to submit to Riddle’s latest torture.

“You haven’t written anything in a while, Harry. Did you need my help with this part?” Riddle’s fingers brushed against his balls as he spoke, then fell back further to where Harry was stretched wide around Riddle’s length.

Harry glared at his essay, his grip on his quill tightening. Riddle knew exactly what Harry needed. Knew, and refused to give without first torturing him. Because Riddle loved keeping Harry on edge, driving him to desperation. Loved to make Harry _beg_. 

But Harry was stubborn. He wouldn’t give in. Wouldn’t give Riddle the satisfaction - 

_Snap_.

Harry blinked and stared at his hand, the broken quill now hanging uselessly. Behind him Riddle sighed.

“You shouldn’t be so careless with your belongings, darling.”

Harry made an aborted sound - the beginnings of an insult, or perhaps a curse. He felt Riddle’s chest rumble as the prefect chuckled. 

Riddle was undoubtedly a psychopath. Or sociopath. Or everything in between. Harry swore Riddle lived to make him suffer. 

Harry’s fingers twitched. Very well. If Riddle was going to insist on playing dirty, then Harry would not sit back and just take it. His cheeks flushed slightly as his eyes flicked to his bag on the floor next to the desk. He took a deep breath, then began to lean to the side, pausing only when Riddle’s hand tightened on his hip.

“What do you think you’re doing, Harry?” 

“I broke my quill,” Harry replied as casually as he could, ignoring the way Riddle’s fingers were digging into his skin. The way Riddle’s cock pulsed inside him, hot and hard, brushing his sensitive walls each time Harry moved. Harry felt himself flush, swallowing down a noise of breathless pleasure. “I need a new one.”

“Just repair it.”

Harry wriggled slightly in protest, relishing the way the prefect’s grip tightening warningly. “I have others. I’m not good at repair charms and my wand’s in my bag anyway.”

Eventually he was released and he bend his body down, raising his ass a little and shifting, clenching with each motion. He rooted through his bag, glad that he was facing away. Because if Riddle saw just how red he was, how very desperate, it would certainly ruin his chances. He felt Riddle’s hand drift behind him, cupping his ass and squeezing.

He shifted again. He was practically waving his ass in front of Riddle as he half emptied his bag in his ‘search’ and he could feel the prefect’s heated gaze upon his bare skin. He couldn’t help but breathe a little faster, all too aware of Riddle’s cock and the way it kept shifting inside him, filling him completely and utterly. He clenched again and smirked when he heard Riddle’s breathing stutter and felt his hips jerk upwards minutely, not quite able to control himself. 

Good.

Because Harry was so very close to giving in. To begging and submitting even when he was loathe to do so. But he was running out of items to remove from his bag, and gods, he just wanted Riddle to _move_.

“You’re being very, very naughty, Harry.” Riddle’s finger teased his hole alongside his cock, threatening to slip inside and stretch him further - more than he could possibly take. “As prefect, it is my duty to ensure that all students are attentive…” his finger nudged Harry’s pucker, “respectful,” his finger then trailed upwards, warm and rough against the sensitive skin of his perineum, “obedient…” his finger reached the tip of Harry’s cock before pressing down into the slit, making the boy writhe. “Which you, darling, most certainly are not.”

“Yeah?” Harry was finding it hard to draw enough breath. “What are you gonna - _oh_ \- “ his eyes rolled back as Riddle moved, grabbing his shoulder with one hand, his hips with the other, and pulling him up, and then _down_ and Harry gasped in unfettered pleasure, his head lolling to the side, his pale neck on display for Riddle’s enjoyment.

Teeth scraped against his skin and Riddle’s tongue was hot against his flesh. “Only you,” Riddle growled, “can make me lose control like this.”

And then he was moving, his hips thrusting upwards, driving his cock deep into Harry, again and again, thick and hot and so very, very good. 

Harry leaned back into Tom, his back tight against his chest as he ground down onto the prefect’s lap, legs splayed, his own cock hard and throbbing and wanting. “Tom,” he gasped. “Please.”

And Tom growled a response that Harry didn’t quite hear but felt instead - a rumbling of his chest and a sweet, blessed, hot hand upon his length, fingers wrapped around and squeezing, stroking, _touching_.

“Harry,” Tom said into his hair. “You feel - “ He broke off with a groan as Harry clenched around him, hot and wet. “ _Fuck_.”

Harry wanted to reply - truly, he did. But forming words was beyond him now - all he could do was feel. Tom, hard and thick inside him, his arms holding him in place as his muscles flexed, the soft material of his shirt almost rough against Harry’s sensitive skin. The button of Tom’s trousers dug into his thigh, the thicker material hissing against his skin with every motion. Because Tom was as dressed as Harry was naked, and the thought made Harry moan. Tom, coiffed and perfect, his button and zipper undone just enough to free his cock - 

Pleasure raced through him, curling his toes and clenching his hands, tensing his muscles as it grew - a heat inside him that overwhelmed thought.

“Ah, _ah_ \- _Tom_ \- “ He needed. Merlin, how he needed. Each thrust sent a burst of pleasure, magnified by Tom’s every touch. He was so damn close - 

“Harry,” Tom’s hand was moving faster now, hot around Harry’s cock. His breath came in hot pants against Harry’s shoulder. There was a slight tremble in his voice, the only sign of the fact that he was unable to hold back any longer. “I want you to come for me.”

His words made Harry shudder and keen. Tom thrust once - twice - and then Harry was coming, his cock pulsing in Tom’s hand, his head thrown back, his body taut as pleasure raced through him, white hot and all-encompassing. Seconds - minutes - he didn’t know. He could feel Tom stiffening behind him, hips stuttering then pressing firmly against him as he joined him in pleasure, his grip tightening almost painfully. The moment felt like an eternity, the two of them joined in perfection, in bliss, in a primal way that superseded all other forms of connection.

Slowly, slowly, Harry began to relax, his body falling limp into Tom’s hold, his head resting on his shoulder. He panted quietly, his brow dotted with sweat, his muscles trembling, small jolts of pleasure drawing pleased sighs from his lips in the aftermath of his orgasm. Tom’s hair brushed his cheek, fallen free from its usual hold. Quick puffs of air tickled his skin.

They stayed like that for a few long minutes, skin brushing, breaths calming, hands moving in small, intimate gestures. Against Harry’s cheeks, along the back of Tom’s hand, fingers intertwining.

It was only when Harry began to shiver from the cool air that Tom leaned forward. “You didn’t finish your essay, darling.” He smirked. “I suppose I’ll have to keep tutoring you.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. “You’re a terrible boyfriend.”

**Author's Note:**

> “I received an ‘O’ on my assignment!” Harry said excitedly.  
> Tom smirked. “Of course you did, I tutored you.”


End file.
